Good Days

Today I took a long walk by the river, and saw purple and green streaks in the wood grain of the pier. My knee did not hurt. My body felt good.

Today I ate breakfast on a park bench and threw tiny pieces of food to the sparrows. They were little and big, different colored feathers, different size beaks, different personalities. The brave ones charged forward toward my feet and snapped up the food. The timid ones sat in a nearby bush and examined me, trying to decide of I was a predator. I sat with these tiny things and watched them and smiled.

Today I did four loads of laundry.

Today I lit a candle and worked on a upcoming article assignment.

Today I picked Jane up at school and the weather was good enough to go the park. The trees have no leaves. The landscape was gray. She ran around in her bright pink coat, pretending to be a secret spy superhero. I watched. She laughed. I laughed.

Today we took the train home, and I started dinner early.

Today, just now, I sat down at this computer and thought, “What a great day.”

And then I thought, “What was so great about it?”

I’ve learned that good days are not exciting days. Good days are everyday days. Calm days. Days when nothing breaks down and nothing hurts in your soul or your body. Days when you get the privilege of your morning walk, the time to write a few words down, the energy to clean your apartment, the easy smile of just saying “hello” after a day apart with your loved ones.

It takes life experience, some good and some not so good, for us to learn that good days are not long for vacations, or big events. Good days for me are when I can walk my dogs early in the morning and seeing a Robin or a good cup of coffee. Good days are made up of little moments of peace! Wishing you many goods in 2017!

I really missed your writings during your break. I checked back in today and was happy to see you back! No curated posts needed…I just enjoy reading your story each time you write. And living vicariously in New York City through your family. 🙂

I have also unplugged from most social media because my soul just can’t take it. Finding security, peace, and comfort in things familiar is MY saving grace. Haven’t felt safe enough to let myself dream, so thanks for the nudge. It’s a timely reminder that as for me and my house, we will choose love and that feels a little healing.

I remember telling my step sister once that ideally love for me was being there, making me feel safe and cared about. Being there. In the house. In the room. In the bed. Not jewelry. Not a nice car. She didn’t get it. But I think you do. Thanks for this post.I feel like I get you too.